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BY 



NATHANIEL J. W. LE CATO, 



BALTIMORE, MD. 



B A L T I M O^E';VVASH>^^:>*'^ 



STfiAM PRESS OP FREDERICK A. HANZSCHK, 

No. 1B6 W. Baltimore Street. 
1871. 






DEDICATION 



TO 



Rev. WILLIAM E. MUNSEY, D.D. 



Thou gifted one of that dear, honored state 

I call my own, to thee I dedicate 

This liumble offspring of my feeble pen. 

Long may thy genius keep its eagle flight 

Reflecting beams of heaven's etherial light 

To point to brighter worlds the erring sons of men. 



CONTENTS. 



Page 

Dedication ' 4 

Theodora 5 

To My Wife 82 

Thou Art Lost to Me 33 

I am not Happy when I Smile 34 

Farewell to Mary 34 

" When You are Away Cousin, Look at the North Star and 

TliinkofMe" 35 

Lines written on Hearing of the Death of Miss R. W. B. of 

Northampton 36 

€heer Up 37 

Lissie Sue 38 

To Mrs. C. E. Le Cato 39 

There is Rest in the Grave 39 

Lines Written at Sunset 40 

Faith. Hope. Charity , 41 

The Quiet Dead 42 

Lines Written at the Request of a Lady 42 

Written in a Young Lady's Album 43 

To Emma 48 

On the Death of Little Carrie Dunton 44 

Adieu to Baltimore 44 

INIy Home Beyond the Sea 45 

Farewell to Cuba 46 

" The Apple that Falls Without Shaking." 48 

The Beacon 49 

Lines ^^ 

I Cannot Love Again 51 

National War Song. Come to the Strife 52 

Westward and Eastv/ard 54 



11 CONTENTS. 

Page 

Our Boat is Lying by tlie Shore 55 

O Do Not bid Me Stay 56 

On the Banks of the Bold Rappahannock 57 

By the Sweetness of a Face 58 

Grace. A Sonnet, 59 

A Spanish Serenade '. 60 

Not There ... Gl 

A Sonnet— To Neta 63 

A Song 63 

Atlantic View 65 

Lines 66 






A POEM. 



I. 

Far stretching from the Isle of Chincoteague, 
To where the Chesapeake and ocean meet — 
From sea to bay in breadth a single league 
In lengtli a hundred miles — with groves replete 
And plains where lofty pines majestic rise — 
Old Accomac* like some enchanted garden lies. 

II. 

Its northern line divides from Maryland 

Two counties of the parent state, 

Atlantic billows lash its sea-girt strand 

And South and West from Cape to island strait 

In gentle waves tliat softer cadence speak, 

Is spread the broadaud ever murmuring Chesapeake, 

III. 

Ijctween the ocean and the land, as far 
A^ human eyes can trace, a sand_y beach 
Extends, where nuxst and boom and broken spar, 
Of many a lost and ruined vessel, bleach. 
While here and there, the bold, aggressive main 
Has forced the yielding sand and cleft the shore in 
twain. 

*iu aacicut times tlift whole Pcniusula was knowu as Accomac 



6 THEODORA. 

IV. 

And tlieu, through waving meadow rock and shore, 
Past where the plovers build their nests of reed, 
These rapid waters through their channels pour ; 
Till where the farmer scatters wide his seed 
There winds a river round his rustic place 
And drooping trees are mirrored in its sleeping face. 

V. 

here are dells so Eden like and still 

There scarce is heard a harsh unwelcome sound ! 
And thievish blackbirds chased from neighboring 

field 
Light on the swinging pines that grow around 
And crowding with their serried ranks each spray 
8it undisturbed and sing the sunshine hours away. 

VI. 

1 knew just such a place as this — a spot 
By opening in a myrtle grove revealed, 
Where underneath a grape-vine, stood a cot 
Like nest of bird in foliage half concealed : 
And just in front scarce kissed by solar ray 

A small meandering stream in sombre silence lay. 

VII. 

Here day by day from mowing time until 
November dark, in quest of gravel — food 
Their little crops witli shining grains to fill. 



THEODORA. 7 

The piping partridge led her timid brood. 
And from his hiir the red fox often came 
To prowl at midnight by tlie stream and seek his 
game. 

.VIII. 

O blest retreat how many hearts liave sighed 
For such a paradisal nook as this ; 
Where only with one loving heart beside 
There might be tasted all of earthly bliss. 
And where the turtle's voice so soft and clear 
Should be for youthful love, a sweet interpreter. 



IX. 

Full twenty vertial suns the line had passed 
That crosses midway through the torrid zone 
Since William Wallace safe from sea at last 
Had made a bride and this small cot his own. 
And yet in all that time no offspring caai3 
To bless the quiet home or bear the sailor's name. 

X. 

Until the good Angelia — lovely still — 

Like her in whom all nations have been blessed 

Despaired at last to feel that holy thrill 

A new life wakens in a mother's breast — 

That gush of joy that runs her bosom o'er 

And makes the favored husband dearer than before. 



8 THEODORA. 

XI. 

But lo, when just on nature's verge of doubt 
That dreaded epocli in a spinster's lit'Cj 
When every hope is fading dimly out 
That she may be a mother or a wife — 
Just then, as if impelled by angel's wings 
Another fluttering heart into existence springs. 

XII. 

And when the child was born a winsome thing — 
With eyes of blue and soft and silken hair. 
There ne'er had come so bright a Spring 
As this, to cheer that meek and happy pair. 
And now all grateful for the boon bestowed 
They straigthway called her Theodora — gift of God. 

XIII. 

Henceforth those thankful ];)arents daily found 
A source of new and ever fresh delight; 
And as the fleet months passed their constant round 
Each coming season only seemed more bright. 
While Theodora — Baby — -grew apace 
And heaven's own sunshine beamed upon her 
infant face. 



XIY 



Tliere stood close by the little wicket gate 

A scraggy pine, with leafless boughs and dead, 

Doomed many years ago by luckless fate 



THEODORA, 9 

To feel the red-bolt hissing round its head. 
Within its giant branches scathed and wrung 
An Osprey built her nest and reared her fishy 
young. 

XV. 

Strong pinioned bird ! thy piercing call is dear 
To honest husbandman. In thee he sees 
Of soft and balmy days true harbinger ! 
Sweet buds and blossoms deck the forest trees ; 
And in the rolling fields the wheat grows green 
When thy bold form along the crested coast is seen. 

XVI. 

Five times the Osprey came; and as they flew 
Had Wallace scored tbe swift years one by one, 
And thus the age of Theodora knew. 
Five times the rays of Summer's genial sun 
Gushed warmly in upon his blest retreat, 
And on the smooth white sand were prints of little 
feet. 

XVII. 

No longer now when fishing time came round 
Was he alone. Equipped with minnow hook 
The bright-eyed daughter by his side was found, 
Her plastic mind swayed by his every look ; 
And soon she learned with tiny hand to guide 
The willingskiff in safety through the whirling tide. 



10 THEODORA. 

XVIII. 

And when the longer nights of Winter came 
And loud the north wind sighed about the cot 
Before a pine-wood's bright and cheerful flame 
She played; and toil and care were all forgot. 
So passed the few first years since God had given 
To Wallace and his wife this treasured gift of 

heaven. 

XIX. 

Five times again the Osprey, came, and now 
With pail in hand and tidy, homespun dress 
That scarce her dimpled knees concealed, her brow 
Enwreathed with many a soft and girlish tress, 
Her roguish lips with wild strawberries dyed, 
She trudged to school her scanty satchel at her side. 

XX. 

His day's work done his skiflf securely moored 
The doting father oft would go to meet 
His darling pet (each day but more adored) 
As she with sauntering step and weary feet 
Came wandering through the almost pathless wood 
For hours by some wild songster's dulcet voice 
allur'd. 

XXI. 

How oft his coming gave her sweet surprise, 
Sometimes enhanced when he from her would hide 
And from his covert speaking in disguise 



THEODORA. 11 

See her scared look and springing to her side 

Catch her within his brawny arms and press 

Her to his heart with many a long and fond caress. 

XXII. 

The school was neither child nor father's choice 
To them the skiff, the creek, the bay was all ; 
But duty summoned in the mother's voice 
And child and husband yielded to its call ; 
But pined beneath the sacrifice as though 
That little separation were the greatest woe. 

XXIII. 

Five times again the Osprey sought his tree 
Long his by grateful fisherman's bequest, 
And with his coming followed bird and bee — 
And fifteen years the child that home had blessed. 
But years bring changes — girlhood's brighter ray 
Shone in the bluer eye as childhood passed away. 

XXIV. 

But though no longer child, scarce woman yet 
Was fair haired Theodora. She herself 
Knew not herself. One day she played coquette 
Another day was some wild, woodland elf — 
And then so pensive matron-like and mild 
That one would think she ne'er had been a way- 
ward child. 



12 THEODORA. 

XXV. 

Her face a>t times grew pale then deeply flushed, 
Her Toice now harsh, then trembling soft and low ; 
And sometimes laughing when she should have 

blushed 
And blushing oft at what she did not know. 
In short, the girl a thousand whims displayed 
And all her life appeared of paradoxes made. 

XXVI. 

Her careful sire alive to every tone 
She uttered — every look — afraid to trust 
Her far away along the shore alone, 
Would find her gazing at her own fair bust 
As like some nymph she hung above the stream 
Half lost to consciousness in some romantic dream. 

XXVII. 

And sometimes further down the sloping shore 
Where lay of all, the most enchanting grove 
That rapturous youth with fancy might explore 
And feel the thrill of first and truest love; 
Would Wallace passing, ever watchful, see 
Some schoolboy's name cut in the soft white holly- 
tree. 

XXVIII. 

Five times again the Osprey plumed his wing 
And sought his summer home. Fierce winter, now 
Had changed to bland and balmy air of spring 



THEODORA. 13 

And modest bine-birds cbirped behind the plough 
While whistling as from row to row he plod 
The ever happy farmer turned the fragrant sod. 

XXIX. 

The aged mother sat within the door 

With trembling frame and thin and silvery hair ; 

And bottom upward on the sandy shore 

Was laid the boat now needing much repair ; 

While Wallace drove the caulking iron, and sent 

Fresh oakum into seams the winter storms had rent. 

XXX. 

While sitting on its bulging side at ease 
The tall fair girl now grown to womanhood 
Her rich brown curls a plaything for the breeze, 
Her words to Wallace more than rest or food , 
For toil was light when Theodora smiled 
And gentle words from her the long dull hours 



beguiled. 



XXXI. 



Her face was fresh and sweet, — her dress was plain 

And in its shape unmarred by fashion's law. 

Upon its folds there rested not a stain, 

Upon her head a simple hat of straw. 

There was a beauty in her rounded waist, 

A nectar on her lips the gods might sigh to taste. 



14 THEOBOEA. 

XXXII. 

She sat sidewise upon tlie boat, as tliougb 

8he rode a steed. One loot scarce touched the 

ground ; 
And as the other peeped through fokls of snow 
The slanting sunbeams clasped her ancle round, 
Oh gorgeous sight; since Adam's time how few 
Have gazed on such an Eve, so pure and lovely too ! 

XXXIII. 

Oh speak no more of Grecian climes, of soft 

And rosy tint of fair Italian skies, 

Of mighty peaks that stretch so I'ar aloft 

They overwhelm the mind and strain the eyes — 

Till woman, nature's work was still undone — 

She finished Eve and all her glories slione in one. 

XXXIV. 

To him who holds intact the nobler traits 
Of human kind and tempers passion's glow, 
No grander sight for him in nature waits, 
No better theme for study here below 
Than woman, though in court or cot she move, 
Than woman in her deep and all unselfish love. 

XXXV. 

One thing a woman's beauty spoils. The less 
She studies art and nature's ways attends 
The less she'll have of hideous ugliness. 



THEODORA. 15 

But art and Tlieodora ne'er were friends. 
Her playthings had been birds her models flowers; 
Andstill with these she spent her pleasant summpr 
hours. 

XXXVI. 

And oh she was so fair to look upon, 

So fresh and sweet like dewy rose in May, 

That when she turned her swimming eyes on one, 

'Twas hard to ever put tlie siglit away. 

And when she spoke 'twas like Eolian strains 

Which when once heard tlie ear forevermore retains. 

XXXVII. 

'Twas sultry June and rifts of fleecy cloud 
Passed slowly o'er the sun and eastward bound 
Hung idly where tlie white surf bellowed loud. 
And ever and anon tliere came a sound 
Like distant thunder rumbling in the West, 
That shook the solid logs whereon the boat did rest. 

XXXVIII. 

" Haste Pa," the young girl said with quick surprise, 
'' Before the day is done the rain will pour. " 
"Not thunder, child," the old man said, "the skies 
^' Are mild. Ah, 'tis the cannon's deadly roar. 
''I heard it in that same dull mutterriug way 
^' When Cockburn led his fleet so gaily up the bay. 



16 THEODORA. 

XXXIX. 

''They said we'll all lie murdered now, and I 
"Like yon was timid and I trembled then; 
"But those dark days of fighting soon passed by, 
"And peace and plenty, daughter, smiled again. 
"The haughty British beaten, never more. 
"Came over yonder sea to trouble our shore. 

XL. 

" But when I grew to be a man and few 

"There were as supple, stout and strong, I know — 

" I dressed myself all in the handsome blue 

" And went away to fight in Mexico ; 

" And there through many a battle fierce and hot 

"I followed to the end the brave and gallant Scott, 

XLL 

" But now they say its North and South that fight! 
" Oh I am glad I'm old and can not go. 
" In civil strife its hard to tell who's right 
" And friend may b3 as treacherous as foe. 
" Bad men will strive to do the worst they can 
" And he who steals the most will be the greatest 
man. 

XLII 

" But will they shoot each other Pa? It seems 
" So bad to change the flag and make new laws — 
"Just when the great and prosperous country teems 



THEODORA. 17 

" With all tliat's good — witliont sufficient cause. 
'• The old man quit his work — raised up his head 
" And kindly looking at his lovely daughter said: 

XLIII. 

*' It doth my cliild ; but there liath ever been 
^' Deep woven in our country's rapid growth 
"Like virus in the blood — a deadly sin — 
" Of North and South the equal crime of both. 
"Till universal freedom gives us peace 
" The cannon's voice^ my child, to speak will never ^ 
cease. 

XLIV. 

" But Pa, they'll not come here:" and as she spoke 
Her cheek grew pale, for booming now and then 
The deep mouthed cannon, solemn thoughts awoke, 
"No, no, my child, in this secluded glen 
" Shall peace affrighted from her wide domain 
" A welcome guest within our humble cot remain. 

XLV. 

But even as his words are dying out 

The watch-dog pricks his ever eager ears, 

And frightened poultry screeching all about 

Confirm at once the trembling daughter's fears. 

And just below the gate twelve rods or more 

A band of soldiers camefast walking down the shore. 

XL VI. 

Close by her father's side the young girl crept; 

And he no longer on his labor bent 

Stood arrow straight as towards them boldly stepped 



18 THEODORA. 

A youth whose smiling face showed good intent. 

He bore his head erect, liis eye was keen 

And there was all the soldier in his manly mien . 

XLVII. 

Around his waist a crimson sash was tied, 
A jaunty hat with ostrich feather gay 
Adorned his head, a sword hung at his side 
And over all a suit of modest gray. 
That marked him as of that brave rebel band 
-Whose sacred lives had been forsworn to dixie land. 

XLVIII. 
First making to the girl a graceful bow, 
The father, thus, he next addressed : "Good Sir, 
"We've come to guard yon bluff, or from its brow 
"To watch the coast. We look for Yankees here 
" Wh )se object is to subjugate our land 
"And all our ancient institutions countermand. 

XLIX. 
"We will your own neat cottage well protect 
" And (looking at the girl) be ever pleased 
"To die for you and yours." The good effect 
Of this fine speech of all her fears released. 
And Theodora viewed with better grace 
The bold and gallant youth with bright and hand- 
some face. 

L. 

But Wallace stroking down his grizzly beard 

And looking thoughtfully upon the ground. 

In slow and measured words at length was heard : 



THEODORA. ^^ 

"Young man, secession lias an awkward sound. ^ 
<' I've seen more years than you and this new thing 
"Will to the South long years of anguish bring. 

LI. 

"My father fought with Washington. Beneath 
"The sod of Yorktown lie his sacred bones. 
" I love the flag which he to me bequeathed 
" And sanctified with his last dying groans. 
" This same old flag waved proudly over me 
"And through the smoke of battle led to victory. 

LII. 

"I've known no higher joy, (save in this child) 
"Than gazing on its soul inspiring stars 
"And calling it my own. The times are wild 
" And sadly out of joint when civil jars 
" Can o-row so monstrous that we learn to hate 
"What our forefathers with their blood did con- 
secrate. 

LIII. 
"Then you are for the North?" He said, ^'oh, no, 
"I'm for the flag, there's virtue in its folds. 
" We're drifting into ways we do not know; 
^' And anarchy our ship of state controls. 
"I'm not for Northern nor for Southern cause 
" I'm for the flag, the constitution, and the laws. 

LIV. 
" But then the State— " Ah yes, the good old State." 
The aged man replied and wiped a tear: 
^'Her call for help can never come too late, 



20 THEODORA. 

"Her wail I'll never be too deaf to hear. 

" And while I fear your government can't stand 

''I'm ever at Virginia's service and command. 

LV. 

•' Age quells the ardent fire of youth, old man 

" And makes us all submissive to our fate — 

" And sometimes wise," the old man said. " You 

can 
"Not weld the shattered fragments of a state. 
''This boat with stern and stem is dear to me, 
"Saw her in twain and she would worthless be. 

LVI. 

" Far better fate then this do we desire. 
"To us a future opens up more bright 
"Than ever cheered the patriotic sire 
"Of revolutionary fame. The light 
"" Of ages past is still our faithful guide 
" And Dixie shall come forth a queen in all her 
pride, 

LVII. 

"While in the North shall want's gaunt form be 

seen 
" With ghastly front perched on her pleasant hills . 
" In all her mighty marts shall grass grow green, 
"And hushed for aye the whirring of her mills. 
"From Kichmond shall a mighty voice go forth, 
" And dread shall seize the craven people of the 

North. 



THEODORA. 21 

LVIII. 

The old man sighed and turned his face askance; 
But Theodora losing fast her fears 
Caught ever and anon a sidelong glance 
That like some wind which on the coast appears, 
And sends the tide o'er all the lowland plains — 
So did the purple flood wash Theodora's veins. 



LIX. 

Down on the hlufl' that overlooked the coast 

The rebel camp was fixed and by the sea 

The soldier kept his solitary post. 

But where the young lieutenant loved to be 

"Was at the cot by Theodora's side 

From early morning hour till dewy eventide. 

LX. 

Meantime the war, tliat fratricidal strife, 

So much to be deplored, yet so intent 

In its demands that naught but human life 

The cruel heart of Janus could relent, 

Was thundei'ing at the summer gates and black 

And smoking ruins marked its devastating track. 

LXL 

Along that noble river's fruitful banks 

Whereon tlie Father of his counti-y sleeps — 

That hero who in glory's shining ranks 

Forever first his primal station keeps — 

The murderous rifle rung along the shore 

And stalwart men fell down to rise again no more, 



22 THEODORA. 

LXII. 

And in the valley of his own loved state — 
The Alma Mater of this Western World — 
The peaceful farmer met the same sad fate. 
Broad cast the smoke of desolation curled; 
And where the fierce invading armies trod 
They left their bloody track forever on the sod. 

LXIII. 

And now from Chincoteague to where the cape 
Juts out into the sea the yankee fleet 
From tlie doomed shore precluded all escape. 
And where the Chesapeake and ocean meet, 
Their signal lights were nightly seen to burn ; 
And Accomac must soon to Federal rule return. 

, LXIV. 

But fluttering to the breeze that gaily fanned — 
All balmy from the deep blue ocean tide. 
The favored shores of this devoted land, 
Still floated in its yet unconquered pride, 
The doomed but ever-cherished flag, whose bars 
To conquer, only needed but a few more stars. 

LXV. 

Oh they did love their banner well and true, 
But now no more they wish to see it fly ; 
They all their weight within the balance threw 
And bravely stood the chances of tlie die. 
But when the die was cast and fortune fled, 
They mourned their darling cause as" one forever 
dead. 



THEODORA. 23 

LXVI. 

We'll taunt them not, tlieir deeds though rebel deeds 
'Tis true, deserve no second Bunker Hill ; 
But he who for his honest conscience bleeds, 
Bleeds no less for the mighty future still. 
No brutish force such fighting men could makCj 
They fought and bled and died for holy conscience 
sake. 

LXVII. 

One thing they've learned, they very well may say 

A lesson dearly learned in tears and sorrow, 

That he who is the abject slave to-day 

May be the wicked master on the morrow. 

Thus are we so beset with changes here 

That he who served us once, is now our equal peer. 



LXYIII. 



There is a plant of texture so refined 

That but a breath of jealously can chill 

Its tender leaves but which the fiercest wind, 

That sweeps the human heart has failed to kill. 

It flourishes in frigid regions drear 

And grows within the heart of South-Sea Islander, 

LXIX. 

In that small cot where honest Wallace dwelt, 
It grew apace, and virgin soil gave strength 
And beauty to the germ. The old man felt 



24 THEODORA. 

That he must lose his precious gem at length ; 

And he who had the hardened soldier been 

Now lover turned, and sought the daughter's heart 

to win. 

LXX. 

Along the shore, through shady myrtle grove, 
Down on the winding beach, out in the creek — 
In silent haunts, they talked and dreamed of love; 
And felt far more than either dared to speak. 
Thus day by day they wove insensibly, 
That silken cord which lasts to all eternity. 



LXXI. 

The summer sun was sinking low behind 

The heavy forest that to westward lay ; 

And from the south there came a gentle wind 

Which fast was dying with the close of day. 

The Osprey sat within her great big nest 

And lowly chirped her unfledged little ones to rest. 

LXXII. 
A year had passed away since Harry Lee 
Had first met Theodora by the boat ; 
And six months since beneath the Osprey's tree, 
When dreamy moon and stars were all afloat 
In bluest waves of ether, had she given 
To him her heart as freely as a gift to heaven. 

LXXIII. 
In all that time though each one knew too well 
The day must come when they would have to part, 
And stern reality dissolve the spell 



THEODORA. 25 

Which bound them tightly loving heart to heart, 
In all that time had neither dared to speak 
A word of that dread hour these two fond hearts 
should break. 

LXXIV. 

Now on the shore the lovers sat ; and care 
Was written on the soldier's face. 
"'Twere better though I go and perish there, 
''Than live with her a lifetime of disgrace !" 
The thoughtful maiden caught his smothered sigh, 
But pressed her tender lips nor deigned to make- 
reply. 

LXXV. 

"To-morrow, Theodora, when the dark 
''But friendly night shall have begloomed the sea, 
"I must in yonder frail and tiny bark, 
*' Escape from Accomac and fly to Dixie. 
"Another day, and Yankee troops will come 
"And plant their hated flag close by your little 
home." 

LXXVI. 

" Oh Hal, and must it surely come to this? 
"And yet I've felt it all and held my breath ! 
"How strange that that which gives us greateS't 

bliss, 
"Should also be the messenger of death. 
"0 lovely war that brought you to my side ! 
"0 cruel war tliat will not let me be your bride! 
3 



26 THEODORA. 

LXXVII. 

Then rising from her rustic seat, her cheeks 
All pale, her blue eyes staring wild, her form 
All firmly braced like one who bravely seeks 
To breast some fierce, inevitable storm, 
She cried: *'It shall not be; though both should 

sink, 
"I'll ibllow thee e'en to perdition's very brink!" 

LXXVIII. 

"But should we sink?" "Ah then I'll close my 

eyes, 
"And clinging round your darling neck believe 
"My soul was floating off to Paradise 
"With thee dear Hal, forevermore to live. 
"E'en were the bay as broad as yonder sea, 
"I'd venture forth on only one lone plank [with 

thee!" 

LXXIX. 

The soldier felt his eye grow damp and dim. 
His strong frame quivered like a stricken reed. 
His cup of anguish stood full to the brim. 
And no one came to help him in his need. 
"Hast thou no fear to leave me here alone? 
"Who then shall fight for me when you dear Hal 
are gone?" 

LXXX. 
He clinched his nervous hands and beat the air ! 
"Oh God, I know not what to do ! 'Tis death 
"To cross the bay — to one so tempting fair, 



THEODORA, ** 27 

''Tis worse than death for her to stay!" His breath 
Grew thick with froth that flecked liis whiskers o'er, 
Like flakes of ocean loam that drift along the shore. 

LXXXI. 

Hia hands still clinched in dreadfnl agony, 

He walked the shore his chin hung on his breast ; 

And gazed on her he on his manly knee 

Had oftentimes in innocence caressed; 

And wept to think that she henceforth must be 

For many years, at least, a thing of memory. 

LXXXII. 

At length there seemed to come relief. He took 
Her by the hand and pressed it in his own." Sweet 

one 
"There still is hope ! " — she caught his altered look, 
And sadly smiled, but soon that smile was gone. 
With woman's prescience, what he meant, she 

guessed, 
And heeded not his words, because she knew the 

rest. 

LXXXIII. 

" Our cause is just. Our gallant armies strong. 
" We shall succeed, and soon again I'll come 
*' With glory crowned. Darling, it won't be long, 
^'Ere thou shalt share with me a happy home; 
'< And that I may bear hence a charmed life, 
"Thou shalt to-morrow eve, become my precious 
wife." 



28 



THEODORA. 



LXXXIV. 

The last gray traces of the day had flown, 
The whippowil sang h)ne]y in the wood. 
He knew that lovely one was all his own, 
But felt her falling from him Avhere he stood, 
Dovvn at his ieet she sank beneath the stroke ; 
And distant signal guns the dreary silence broke. 

LXXXV. 

'Twas dark. Along the western sky there lay. 
A black and livid cloud, piled ledge on ledge. 
The nimble footed lightning seemed to play 
Fantastic freaks along its wavy edge; 
And now, in solemn concert heaven's profound 
Artillery shook the air and rolled along the ground. 

LXXXVI. 
There was a gathering at the fisher's place, 
A melancholy ray stole through the door. 
A man of God was there with solemn face ; 
And in the centre of the oaken floor 
The pale mute pair stood side by side — 
The rebel soldier and his fair but trembling bride. 

LXXXYII. 
The sacred words were said, the deed was done. 
That through all scenes of coming woe or weal 
Should make them soul and body only one 
In all their lips should speak or hearts should feel 
holy tie, alas that man should ever 
With impious hands undo what death alone should 
sever. 



THEODORA. 29 

LXXXVIII. 

And then they rv)und the quaint old hearth-stone 

knelt ; 
And hearts were moved that ne'er had prayed before ; 
For some there were who, truly sadly felt 
They'd meet each other on this earth no more. 
And while they still were humbly kneeling there 
A score of sharp reports cut short the fervent prayers. 

LXXXIX. 

Then there was shrieking in the little cot! 
And outside clashing steel and rifle's crash ! 
Against the boards there came a storm of shot, 
And musket mingled with the lightning's flash. 
*Twas Lockwood's Yankee troops, now hand to 

hand 
Engaged with Harry's small but brave and valiant 

band. 

XC. 

But where was he? with more than lion heart 
He grasped his sword, and drew its shining blade, 
Cut right and left the solid files apart, 
And through the bristling line his way he made 
A few bold leaps, and in the little boat 
He down the swollen stream, before the storm did 
float. 

XCI. 

Behind, the blast came surging through the gloom ! 
In front, the waves rolled hissing toward the sea! 
Ahead was one unalterable doom. 



30 THEODORA. 

"A sliore," thought he, ''is now no pLaceforme." 
A vivid flash, a loud and stunning peal, 
And straight the foundering boat turned up her 
narrow keel. 

XCII. 

Poor Theodora, when she waking found 

Her first and only love, her lord her all 

Was gone, she gazed one moment mildly round ; 

And then through sabre thrust and whistling ball, 

Through 'blinding rain, o'er grounds both damp 

and rough, 
She fled with streaming hair, and stood upon the 

bluff. 

XCIII. 

On came the savage fiends ! up ran the wave ! 
All blinding flashed the lightning's lurid glare ! 
"Oh Hal," she cried, "where is thy cruel grave? 
" I come, thy bride, thy wretched fate to share," 
And just where one huge billow roaring tossed. 
She sj)ied the fated boat now wholly wrecked and 
lost. 

XCIV. 

A wail, the last expression of despair. 

Was all the nearest soldier heard ; and when 

The morning came with dappled gray and fair. 

And all the world looked good and bright again — 

Save down beside the ever-sounding sea 

The distant surf still bellowed drearily. 



THEODORA. 31 

XCV. 

The old flag gaily kissed the morning breeze ; 

And where the stars and bars so lately flew 

High on the bluff' among the sturdy trees 

It flaunted out its cheerful field of blue, 

No more by rebel hands to be displaced, 

No more in civil strife to trail the ground disgraced . 

XCVI. 

And just along the margin of the bay 
All in her bridal robes arrayed, her arms 
Clasped tightly round the soldier's neck, there lay 
The poor fond girl, still lovely in her charms. 
Thus perished two fond hearts beneath the wave — 
Thus fell a doubtful cause, that valor could not 
save. 



XCVII. 

The storm is past, the conflict done. 

And silent is the hostile gun. 

The cottage now no longer stands. 

The aged pair sleep by the shore ; 

And blackbirds chased from neighboring lands 

Sing as they did in days of yore. 

XCYIII. 

Upon the bluff the lovers lie 
Wrapped in the flag that floats no more ; 
And as the south Avinds gently sigh. 
And as the waves break on the shore, 
They come and walk the sand, 'tis said, 
And weep o'er hopes forever dead. 



i^ o El :]vn s. 

TO MY WIFE. 

To her whose tender beauty on me broke, 

All in the happy days of long ago ; 
And in my boyish mind sweet fancy woke, 

These straggling waifs of sentiment I owe. 

I was a homely youth of bashful mien, 
And she, an elfish girl of figure small_, 

Just passed the winning age of "sweet sixteen," 
Had scarcely thought of being loved at all. 

Down by the quaint old surging sea we met — 

The blue-eyed Sissie Sue and I. 
The golden sun behind the hills had set, 

And twinkling stars came peeping through the 
sky. 

The tall, white tower its friendly flashing light 
Threw seaward o'er the undulating sand; 

And flocks of ocean fowl with shades of night 
Came flying inward toward the silent land. 

The night grew darker still, her merry laugh 
Grew fainter, and my eager eye could trace 

A pensiveness but dimly seen and half 

Concealed by curls that clustered round her face. 

And then I took her small and velvet hand — 
I hardly knew it was a hand — and felt 

It tremble, while upon the clean white sand, 
I at her tiny feet submissive knelt. 



POEMS. 33 

Though years have passed since then, and restless 
time 

Has written lines of care upon her brow, 
She still is just as dearly fondly mine — 

Sweet Sissie Sue, a wife and mother now. 



THOU ART LOST TO ME. 

(Respectfuny dedicated to Prof. J. Harry Deems.) 

With buoyant hope, once on the tide, 

When nature wore a smile, 
Thy bark and mine sailed side by side 

For love's enchanted isle. 
A few dark clouds their shadows cast 

O'er life's expansive sea, 
A few dark storms untimely passed, 

And thou wert lost to me. 

I turned to thee with faith so true 

I sought no other shrine ; 
And in my heart's affection knew 

No other name but thine: 
But ah, the star whose blessed ray 

Once led my feet to thee, 
By fate's rude hand was snatched away, 

And thou wert lost to me. 

The forest leaves are brown and sear, 
The summer days are gone ; 

And with them all I held most dear — 
I tread life's path alone. 



.34 POEMS. 

I did not see thee pine and die — 
Hope's Sim shines still for thee; 

And yet I feel I know not why, 
Th.at thou art lost to me. 



I AM NOT HAPPY WHEN I SMILE. 
Think not I'm happy when I smile, 

Or when my voice is gay ; 
For in my heart a sadness reigns 

That steals my life away. 
The gayest song you hear me sing, 

Is hut a dirge to me ; 
And wlien I smile i hide distress 

That none hut God can see. 

A smile will sometimes wreathe a lip 

When joy is far away ; 
And flowers hloom on a sepulchre 

Ahove some wasting clay. 
A rose all withered and decayed, 

Some odor will impart; 
So smiles will linger long around 

A crushed and broken heart. 

'Bradford's Neck, 1870. 



FAEEWELL TO MARY. 

Inscribed to A. B. W. 

Farewell dear Mary, 'tis hard to be parted 
To meet ne'er again as oft we have met — 

To live now without thee to die broken-hearted, 
By one that we would, hut cannot forget. 



POEMS. 



35 



Farewell dear Mary, I yet must respect thee 
And shall while life gives to me a breath ; 
And though I was orrieved when thou didst reject 



me 



Still, still I will love thee, even in death. 

Farewell dear Mary, no more I may cherish 
As warmly as once that name, loved too well. 

A name that never from memory can perish 

Whilst my beating pulse its numbers shall tell. 

Farewell dear Mary, too long I have loved thee — 
Too long yielded all to a miserable spell. 

I would that I ne'er so faithless had proved thee 
But my pride bids me, now, say a lasting fare- 
well. 

Accomac, Va., 1849. Written at the age of 14. 



'' WHEN YOU AKE AWAY COUSIN, LOOK AT 
THE NORTH STAR AND THINK OF ME." 

(In memory of my Cousin Tom.) 

Now evening's silence broods around — 

And from the vale or wooded hill 
There cometh not a single sound 

Save saddening song of whippowil — 
I turn my eyes to yon bright star, 
And see it twinkle from afar, 
The while my thoughts on rapid wing 
Go back to life's departed spring. 



36 POEMS. 

One Autumn eve, an hour of bliss, 

When days were fair and nights were bright. 
Not thinking of an hour like this, 

A simple vow we two did plight: 
" When you are gone, out on the sea, 
Look on yon star and think of me ; 
And at the same sweet hour of nine 
My soul shall mingle there with thine." 

Long years have flown, and one by one 
The boys I loved have passed away ; 

And I am almost left alone 

A little while to watch and pray. 

1 stand here gazing where I stood, 

Close by the lone and silent wood ; 

But he who shared with me that vow 

Is sleeping in the graveyard now. 



LINES WRITTEN ON HEARING 

OF THE DEATH OF MISS R. W. B. OF 

NORTHAMPTON. 

Sleep child of sorrow while the breath 
Of autumn sears the last frail flower. 

Thou' It find a sweeter peace in death 
Than e'er thou didst in life's short hour. 

Sleep child of sorrow w^hile the trees 
That shade thy cold but quiet bed_, 

Shall whispering to the evening breeze. 
Sigh requiems for the early dead. 



POEMS. 37 

Sleep child of sorrow, all the pain 

Which thy young heart in patience bore, 

Shall be to thee eternal gain 

In heaven where death molests no more. 

Sleep child of sorrow, death is sweet 
Since life is fraught with toil and care — 

Since all must in the church-yard meet 
And slumber close together there. 

Sleep child of sorrow, till the day 

That wakes the dead shall bid thee rise ; 

Then with thy kindred haste away 
To live forever in the skies. 



CHEER UP. 

The storm beats hard, the lightning's glare 
Streams fierce athwart the heaving ocean ; 

And not one "small still voice", is there 
To quiet all this vast commotion. 

The foundering bark, the wretched crew, 
The angry billows try to whelm — 

A rainbow spans the mingled blue, 

And hope with rapture takes the helm. 

The mind is overcast to-day 

With gloomy clouds of doubt and sorrow ; 
But hope will bloom and sunbeams play 
About tliy dreary road to-morrow. 
- 3 



38 POEMS. 

The head teels sick, the shadows lower^ 

The heart with ponderous throh is aching — 

Cheer up, the night will soon be o'er, 
The day is now already breaking. 



LISSIE ISUE. 

Far away in old Virginia, 

Over waters deep and blue, 
Lives the loved of early boyhood — 

Fondly cherished, Lissie kSuc. 

Strong the tie that links me to her — 
Deep the feeling, warm and true 

Ever living in my bosom, 
Only for my Lissie Sue. 

Happy hours we've seen together, 
Ere the parting hour we knew — 

Earth was heaven then to Walter — 
Angel was his Lissie Sue. 

Though those days have long departed, 
Though my hours of joy are few, 

Yet I hope to soon be happy 
With my precious Lissie Sue. 

When the ocean storms ai-e over 

And I've passed their hardships tlirougli. 
To a sailor's heart I'll press thee 

Then my own, sweet Lissie Sue. 



POEMS. 39 

Till then, loved one Heaven bless thee! 

Till then, Walter will be true — 
Till he comes with joy to greet thee, 

His own blue eyed Lisaie f>ue. 



TO MRS. C. E. LE CATO. 

(Written in licr Album.) 

Remember me, where ere thou art 

In this wide changing' world of ours, 
Should fortune strew thy path with flowers 

Or sorrow 'ere convulse thy heart; 
Still kindly thoughts on one bestow 

Who feels for thee a brother's love, 
Deep as the ocean's depths below — 

High as the vaulted heavens above. 



THERE IS REST IN THE GRAVE. 

There is rest in the grave, in the cold, quiet grave, 

When the storms of life are o'er 
Wher^ the wild flowers bloom and the tall willi>ws 
wave 

There death can molest us no more. 

There is rest in the grave, where peace ever reign.s 

Undisturbed by worldly care, 
AVhere the heart never aches, nor the head ever pains 

And the eye never waters there. 



40 POEMS. 

There is rest in the grave though the turf is clamp 

That must cover the lifeless head — 
Though the wild tempest beat and the warrior 
tram]), 

They cannot awaken the dead. 

There is rest in the grave in that dark dark home 

For spring shall adorn the sod ; 
And the lamp of the gospel shall spangle its dome 

For him who remembers his God. 



LINES WRITTEN AT SUNSET. 

Alas that in a world like this 

Replete in beauties rich and rare, 

Frail man should seek for lasting bliss ; 
And failing only find despair. 

See yon white cloud as undeterred 

It through the broad blue welkin flies; 

While man like some poor, pinioned bird, 
Chained down to earth in sadness lies. 

The sinking sun sets nobly grand! — 
His streaming rays begirt the sky ; 

And Somnus, soon with magic wand 
Will toucli the brain and close the eye. 

Now night comes on, and darkness fills 
The haunted wood, the quiet glen ; 

But soon will daylight climb the hills, 
And nature wake to life a^rain. 



POEMS. 41 

But long ago, aye, long ago 

Dim shadows like this twilight grey 

Came one hy one and shadowed o'er 
Hoi)e's first and last untimely day. 

Long is the night that ne'er is o'er, 
Grim are the shades that ne'er de})art ; 

Yet hope's bright sun will never more 
Beam on the midnijrht of mv heart. 



FAITH. 

I saw a ship of timber good 
Go out upon the heaving blue, 

While Faith beside the helm stood 
And watched the compass, as she flew. 

HOPE. 

I saw the waves roll mountains high, 
And wildly toss a sinking boat ; 

While sturdy hope with sleepless eye 
Still kept the wretched thing afloat. 

CHARITY. 

I saw a man whom fate had thrown 
With others overboard at sea, 

•Give them the raft that was his own, 
And sinking, murmur "Charity." 



42 POEMS. 

THE QUIET DEAD. 

How calmly sleep the quiet dead 
As side by side they silent lie , 

Unconscious of the school-boy's tread, 
Who whistling, passes heedless by. 

How calmly sleep the quiet dead 
As sunset crimsons all the West ; 

While Venus deigns her light to shed ; 
And man and beast prepare to rest. 

How calmly sleep the quiet dead 

As morning gray wakes up the cock ; 

And from his hard but wholesome bed 
The farmer hastes to feed his flock. 

How calmly sleep the quiet dead 

As thunder shakes the earth and sky ; 

And rain-drops big by tempest sped 
Fall pattering loudly where they lie 

Then calmly sleep ye quiet dead 

Till Gabriel sounds from shore to shore 

Then raise each long reposing head 
And wake to slumber never more. 



LINES WKITTEN AT THE REQUEST OF A 
LADY. 

Thy mild blue eye — thy rich brown hair, 
Make thee the fairest of the fair, 
Thy rosy lips with smiles replete 



POEMS. 



-43 



Make thee the sweetest of the sweet; 
Peace heams wher'er thy footsteps move, 
And he who sees is bound to love. 



WRITTEN IN A YOUNG LADY'S ALBUM. 

We meet mid wars alarms, we part 
Ere peace has spread her golden wing ; 

Yet I will bear thee in my heart 
A precious, virtuous, holy thing. 

Farewell — I go. No more we meet; 

But when the world in dark to me, 
I'll sometimes think, how very sweet. 

Were those few hours I spent with thee. 

Kichinond, Va., Jan., 1862. 



TO EMMA. 

A wanderer o'er life's stormy sea, 
The child of grief and toy of fate. 

For the pure love he has for thee, 
To thee these lines would dedicate. 

I met thee Emma when the strife 
Of civil war our land distressed 

When pride and honor, hope and life 
Were sacrificed at its behest. 

*Twas then, when most I felt the stroke 
That drove me from my native shore, 

Thy gentle voice sweet accents spoke. 
And bade me brave tlie storm once more 



44 POEMS, 

And now that fortune bids us part, 

This one fond prayer I'll breathe on high : 

Where'er I be, where'er thou art 
May no one love thee less than I. 



ON THE DEATH 
OF LITTLE CAERIE DUNTON. 

She's gone to the laud where blest spirits dwell- 
Where time on her brow no shadow can fling- 
Where seasons no more their changes can tell 
And Winter is lost in Eternity's Spring. 

June, 1853. 

ADIEU TO BALTIMORE. 

The canvas from the yard-arm falls, 

And cheerily sounds the sailor's song ; 
As by McHenry's frowning walls 

The brigautine now glides along. 
The sky is blue, the wind is fair, 

The parting scene is sadly o'er ; 
And with a sigh for loved ones there, 

I bid adieu to Baltimore. 

Though change can feelings oft efface 

And time new forms of beauty raise, 
'Till we are left without a trace, 

To lead us back to other days ; 
Still what I lose in leaving thee, 

No change, no time can e'er restore ; 
Eor thou wert all the world to me, 

Bright spot of beauty, Baltimore. 



P0EM3. 45 

What though the sky be cokl and pale, 

And forest birds refuse to sing ; 
The snow-drop bending to the gale, 

Gives cheerful hope of coming spring. 
Thus 'mid my grief there's something yet 

Shall cheer me till life's dream is o'er ; 
For while I live I can't forget 

Those sunshine days in Baltimore. 

The breeze now bends the tapering mast. 

And backward rolls the hissing spray, 
Fort Carroll's gunless ports are passed ; 

And friends will soon be far away. 
Thy lofty monuments are gone, 

Thy steeples grand are seen no more^ 
I feel like one who sails alone — 

Adieu, adieu dear Baltimore. 



MY HOME BEYOND THE SEA. 

The summer gale with balmy wing. 

From Cuba's aromatic groves. 
Comes like the scented air of spring, 

In that dear land my memory loves. 
The evening star with mellow ray 

Sets in the distant Carribbee ; 
And twilight wooes my heart away, 

To that bright home beyond the sea. 



46 POEMS. 

The waves are blue that bear me ou, 

The winds are soft that fen my cheek ; 
But scenes that were, ahas, are gone! 

Or live in words I dare not speak. 
These Southern isles are fresh and green, 

These tropic skies are fair to me ; 
But still no place where I have been, 

Is like my home beyond the sea. 

I'll turn my thoughts to other themes, 

I'll close my eyes that fain would weep; 
And if can sliut out the dreams 

That haunt me in my midnight sleep. 
And now farewell my native land — 

The sunny south my home must be ; 
Still memory points with steady hand, 

To that bright spot beyond the sea. 

:Soutli Coast of Cuba, May, 1SC3. 



FAREWELL TO CUBA. 

In the everlasting sunshine, 

With her bright and glowing skies, 
Breathing gales of spicy sweetness, 

Yon blue isle of Cuba lies. 
How I love that spot of beauty. 

Tongue of mortal can not tell; 
Yet I go impelled by duty — 

Isle of Cuba fare thee well ! 



POEMS, it 

Sleeping in the clouds of heaven, 

Are thy mountain summits seen. 
With thy lovely vallies lying 

Clothed in nature's fairest green. 
Land of aromatic bowers, 

Shady nook and sunny dell. 
Gorgeous fruits and fragrant flowers, 

Isle of Cuba, fare thee well. 

There in beauty's dazzling splendor. 

Santiago's queen resides — 
Fairer than the orange blossom, 

Fairer than the world besides. 
Keen the pang, my bosom feeleth, 

While I sigh for Isabel, 
To her feet, my heart now kneeleth — 

Isle of Cuba fare the well. 

There the lovely Spanish maiden 

Softly tunes her sweet guitar ; 
While her dark eyes rich in beauty 

Twinkle like the evening star. 
As the motion of the billow ; 

Is her bosom's gentle swell. 
There my head would find a pillow — 

Isle of Cuba fare the well ! 

Though to other lands I wander — 
Though no more thy mountains see, 

Still, can never be forgotten ; 

Joy's that I have known in thee. 



48 POEMS. 

To thy shore shall memory bind me 
As if with a mystic spell — 

Sadly now I gaze behind me — 
Isle of Cuba fare the well ! 

South Coast of Cuba, May, 1S62. 



" THE APPLE THAT FALLS WITHOUT 

SHAKING." 

A PAEAPHKASE. 

Keepectfully inscribed to my friend, Mr. John Love, of Baltimore. 

The apple that's last to surrender 

To the fate its kindred have met, 
That laughs at tlie school-boy's endeavor, 

And clings to the highest twig yet — 
give me the pleasure of taking, 

Though hard and bitter it be ; 
For "the apple that falls with shaking" 

"Is rather too mellow for me." 

The flower that blooms on the mountain, 

Where the wild goat is fearful to go ; 
Though the rocks all jagged and craggy, 

Are covered with untrodden snow — 
give me the pleasure of plucking 

That flower though scentless it be ; 
For the flower that grows by the wayside, 

Is rather too common for me. 



POEMS. 49 

The girl that will fight for her honor ; 

And say to you something like this : 
" Sir, I suffer no man to insult me;" 

I would give all the world just to kiss, 
But the girl I can kiss at my leisure, 

Why it gets very common you see ; 
And I think that for profit or pleasure 

She's rather too mellow for me. 

The foe that is hardest to conquer, 

The prize that is worst to secure, 
Are well worth the task of the noble, 

To vanquish or yet to pursue ; 
But the crown that costs nothing in taking, 

Though brilliant with gems it may be, 
Like the apple that falls without shaking, 

Is obtained by too many for me. 



THE BEACON. 

The sun has sunk behind the land. 
The shadows tell of coming night; 

While o'er the sea from yonder strand, 
Beams forth the quivering beacon light. 

The shades come down, thick gloom appears^ 
And sad the sailor's heart must be; 

But quelling fast the sailor's fears. 
The beacon light leaps o'er the sea. 
4 



50 POEMS. 

Now pattering on the deck, the rain 

Drips quickly from the squeaking boom ; 

While still from yonder roaring main, 

The steady light breaks through the gloom^ 

The rushing blast, the iron sleet. 

Commingling, dash with fury down ; 

But where the storm and ocean meet, 
The friendly light may still be found. 

Gray o'er the east the shadows turn. 
The coming day peers through the night: 

While o'er the good ship's reeling stern, 
Is seen the fading beacon light. 



LINES. 

There is within the human breast 

A little secret cell ; 
Where dearer sweeter than the rest, 

Are thoughts we dare not tell. 

In midnight's gloom, in daylight's glare^ 

Alone or mid'st the crowd ; 
We sometimes dream of things we dare 

For life, not speak aloud. 

there are hands we may not press,. 
And lips we may not kiss; 

And lives we would but cannot bless- 
In such a world as this. 



POEMS. 



51 



And there's a love untouched by time, 

From early impulse given, 
"Which though on earth is deemed a crime, 

Mav not be sin in heaven. 



I CANNOT LOVE AGAIN. 

whisper not into my ear, 
Those honeyed words of love, 

Their accents are no longer dear, 
They've ceased my heart to move. 

1 heard them once, I can no more 

they were welcome then ; 

But hope's bright dream is sadly o'er — 

1 cannot love again. 

"The wave that leaves the ocean shore, 

While backward roll its tide ; 
And flowers will bloom where once before. 

They withered up and died ! 
But no returning flood of bliss, 

No spring with flowery train. 
Will come to cheer a heart like this, 

That ne'er can love again. 

For me no bird sings on the bough — 

No sunshine on the lea. — 
The world is all a mockery now ; 

And one wide waste to me. 
Instead of joy, your words impart 

Immensity of pain ; — 
They fall like lead upon the heart 

That ne'er can love a^ain. 



52 POEMS. 

NATIONAL WAR SONG. COME TO THE 
STRIFE ! 

Come to the strife ! our father land, 
From sea to sea, from gulf to lake, 

From Western plain to sea-girt strand. 
Calls to her sous, '"'Awake, awake." 

Chorus. 
Then come to the fjtrife ; 

For dearer than life 
Is the land our brave fathers gave, 

Over which in her pride, 
May freedom preside ; 

And the banner of stars ever wave. 

The coward that would be a slave. 

When freedom is the gift of God. 
Is e'en unworthy of a grave 

Beneath his country's hallowed sod. 
But he who dares his arm to raise, 

And for the commonweal to stand, 
Deserves his country's meed of praise. 

And friends and home in father land. 

Chorus. 
Then come to the strife, 

For dearer than life, 
Is the land our brave fathers gave ; 

Over which in her pride, 
May freedom preside, 

And the banner of stars ever wave. 



fOEMS. 53 

Come to the strife ! the bugle's sound, 

Now calls to you '' Arise, arise!" 
The fierce artillery shakes the ground, 

The smoke of battle veils the skies, 
Shall we in base submission bow ? 

To treason lend a willing ear 
While dastard hands are ever now 

Despoiling what we hold most dear ? 
Chorus. 
Then come to the strife, 

For dearer than life, 
Is the land our brave fathers gave, 

Over which in her pride, 
May freedom preside, 

And the banner of stars ever wave. 

Columbia's sons obey the call, 

From town and hamlet lo they come. 
To do or die, to stand or fall, 

For those dear ones they left at home. 
God above who shields the right. 

We lift our humble hearts to thee ! 
Protect us in the giddy fight, 

And give us peace and liberty. 
Chorus. 
Then come to the strife, 

For dearer than life. 
Is the land our brave fathers gave, 

Over which in her pride, 
May freedom preside, 

And the banner of stars ever wave. 



54 POEMS, 

WESTWARD AND EASTWARD. 

Off Saudy Hook, May, 1867. 

Westward far across the distance 
Jersey's green hills sloping lie; 

Eastward spreads the grand old ocean, 
Blue and boundless as the sky. 

^ Westward now, the sun ia setting, 
Till no more he shines on me? 
Eastward with its sombre shadows, 
Twilight gathers o'er the sea. 

Westward roar the giant breakers, 
Marked by one long line of foam ; — 

Eastward fades the distant vessel. 
Like the scenes of home, sweet liome. 

Westward now the land is hidden, 
Hidden from my blinded view ; 

Eastward through the shades of evening, 
Looms one boundless field of blue. 

Westward is the shore I'm leaving, 
Filled with grief I can not speak ; 

Eastward lies the land of strangers. 
Sterner duty bids me seek. 

Westward is the land of memory ! 

Once the real dear land to me : 
Eastward is the boundless future, 

And I sail the mystic sea. 



POEMS, 

OUR BOAT IS LYING BY THE SHORE. 

Respectfully luscribed to W. J. E. 

Our boat is lying by the shore 
The rising moon the clouds dispel ; 

And lips are dumb that ne'er before 
Have breathed the bitter word farewell. 

Oh if to know thee Lot was pleasure, 
To leave thee love is keenest pain ; 

And misery quite outside of measure 
To think we may not meet again. 

I curse the fate that bids me go 
So far away from thee, to fight ; 

To say farewell, for ought I know 
To thee, forever more, to-night. 

My heart would stay nor quit the place 
Where only pleasure has been mine ; 

"But suffer death before disgrace" 
Were parting words, dear, Lot of thine. 

Forms glide along the silent river, 
They praying watch us sail away — 

Stout, manly hearts with anguish quiver — 
Oh Lot, ]'de give the world to stay ! 

But duty's path lies plain before me — 
And her fond prayers for me will tell — 

See, see she waves me on to glory ! 

Now, Lot, dear Lot, farewell, farewell ! 



56 POEMS. 

DO NOT BID ME STAY. 

Oh do not bid rae stay ; 

'Tvvere better I should go, 
Out in the rain, out in the sno w, 

Far, far, from thee away — 
My soul ! I love thee so ! 

Out in the driving rain — 
Out in the blinding snow ; 

My face all hot with passion's glow 
Shall then get cool again — 

My heart not tremble so. 

do not bid me stay, 

Thy bower is far too sweet, 

Our kindred liearts too warm to meet- 
And love knows but to day — 

bid me to the street ! 

syren voice — eye 
Deep as the sparkling sea ; 

How can I from such beauty fly ; 
I am chained to thee 

With cords a thousand ply. 

Press not my willing hand ! 

Turn, now aside thou face ! 
■Gaze not upon me while I stand 

In this enchanted place, 
Just waitino: thv command. 



POEMS. 

Ill mercy bid me go ! 

heaven 'tis bliss to stay ! 
But my soul, I love tliee so, 

'Tis death to go away ! 
teach me how to go. 



ON THE BANKS OF THE BOLD 
RAPPAHANNOCK. 

(Written a few days after the Battle of Fredericksburg .) 

On the banks of the bold Rappahannock I strayed, 
And was musing on scenes far away ; 

When in a small crevice the water had made 
There, the skull of a warrior lay. 

With the calmness of Hamlet I raised the head— 
The sockets were green where the eyes had been ; 

But on its broad front a story I read 

Of the red man's wrong and the white man's 
sin. 

Ere the white man's barge on the river was seen, 

Ere the white man's ax was here, 
On the banks of the stream— in the forest green, 

He followed the bounding deer. 

Here his children grew up in strength by his side, 
Like the oaks of his dear native place ; 

But the pale-face came and the land of his pride 
Was wrested from him and his race. 



-58 POKMS. 

His arm was strong, and his heart was brave, 
But the " Great Spirit" came not to aid ; 

And he fell, alas ! in the bloody grave 
His pale-faced brother had made. 

On the banks of the bold Rappahannock he died, 
And they laid liim down there to repose ; 

But the angel of vengeance still watched by the tide 
That runs red with the blood of his foes. 



BY THE SWEETNESS OF A FACE. 

Down within the business circles, 

Where the men of mammon meet. 
Is an ancient house with gables, 

In a short and narrow street. 
Sadly broken is the pavement, 

Torn by many an iron hoof ; 
And the slate is hanging loosely 

On the old dutch shapen — roof; 
And the dormers all about it, 

Green with moss show broken panes, 
As if left and long neglected 

Save by winter's stormy rains. 
In the basement works a cooper, 

On the floor above's a store, 
And a pile of staves and rubbish ; 

Lies about the cellar door. 
But within the little window 

Of the humble second floor — 



POEMS. 59 



Just above the ragged awning 

Of the quaint, old grocery store- 
In the summer, in the winter, 

Spring serene or autumn drear, 
Flowers rich in hue and fragrance 

On the window-sill appear. 
And a face so sweet and pensive 

Greets my vision now and then^ 
That I wonder such a treasure 

Should be overlooked of men. 
For the radiance of her beauty, 

(To my eyes) so purely sweet, 
Seems reflected on each object 

In that antiquated street: 
And I see at once what glory 

May adorn an humble place, 
By the presence of a woman — 

By the sweetness of a face. 



GRACE. A SONNET. 

I could tell you of a face. 

That would take your heart by storm, 
Of a little girl named Grace, 

With a fine Italian form. 
Raven hair and flashing eye, 

Arching brows and Grecian nose, 
Lips of deep carnation dye, 

Cheeks half olive tint, half rose. 



60 POEMS. 

By my soul she is so fair, 

That her very face doth speak, 

Saying that some child of air 
In this beauty plays the freak 

Of feigning woman now and then 
To coquette with the heart's of men. 



A SPANISH SERENADE. 

From yonder white cloud comes the fresh Southern 

gale 
And my swift brigantime is now ready to sail. 
Isabel, Isabel, pride of my heart. 
Speak to me dearest,, ere I depart. 

Thou knowest how dear thy name is to me, 
Thou knowest I'm dying a martyr to thee — 
Isabel, Isabel give me thy smile. 
Ere I leave in despair thy beautiful Isle. 
Chorus — Isabel, Isabel &c., 

Oh, here at thy window fair one would I stay ; 
But the sea god impatient now calls me away. 
Down down at thy feet entreating I bow — 
Oh speak to me Isabel, speak to me now. 
Chorus — Isabel, Isabel &c., &c. 

The dew-drops are falling, I must hasten away. 
My brigantine sails at the dawning of day ; 
Ah soon shall I float on the dark heaving billow — 
Then sweet be thy dreams and soft be thy pillow. 
Chorus — Isabel, Isabel, &c., &c. 



POEMS. 61 

I go to my home on a far distant shore, 

I leave thee forever, I shall see thee no more ; 

Isabel, Isabel the fond tie is riven, 

1 have lost thee on earth, I shall find thee in heaven — 
Isabel, Isabel pride of my heart, 

T'arewell forever, for now I depart. 



''NOT THERE." 

She is not where I saw her last, 

My heart sinks with despair. 
And all my hopes are fading fast, 

Because she is not there 
How oft I visit yet the spot 

And hope in vain to see 
The rosy lips that greet me not. 

That were so dear to me. 
Not there where first I saw her face 

So calm so sweet so fair ; 
Oh misery can I view the place 

And say, "she is not there?" 

I did not think to lose her thus, 
I trusted time would bring. 

Her angel presence back again 
With budding flowers of Spring 

But warbling birds sing on the bough, 
And fragrance fills the air ; 

Bnt though I look with longing eyes, 

I do not see her there, 
5 



62 POEMS. 

Not there, where first I saw lier face 

So calm, so sweet, so fair. 
Oh misery can I view the place 

And say she is not there? 

Not there, not there — breathe not the words. 

But rather let me dream 
I see her as in days of yore — 

So hard the truth doth seem. 
'Tis sad when one we cherish dies 

And leaves a vacant chair ; 
But who can tell what anguish lies. 

In these tw^o words ! " Not there !" 
Not there where first I saw her face 

So calm, so sweet, so fair — 
Oh misery can I view the place 

And say "she is not there." 

Not there, not there, the time is past ; 

I may not sec her now 
With auburn curls that clustered round 

Her sweet and pensive brow. 
O scenes that change, flowers that fade I 

joy so much like fickle air, 
can ye, say why one was made 

To feel, to know "she is not there? " 
Not there, &c. 



POEMS. 63 

A SONNET.— TO NETA. 

Neta, little vixen, Netca, 

Full of frolic, full of glee — 
Full of innocence and love- 
May the days that are for thee, 
Like long days of summer prove, 

thy heart 1 know is pure — 
Pure as meek-eyed violets are ; 

And to its idol just as true 
-As magnet to the polar star, 

Neta, artless, playful, sweet ! 
Child of boundless, purest love! 

that you and I may meet 
Safe at last at Jesus' feet 

In our Father's house above. 



A SONG. 

Beneath Italia* s dreamy skies. 

In classic Greece my feet have strayed ; 
From where Campanian mountains rise, 

To Delphi's philosophic shade. 
But'mid those fabled haunts would come. 

Like some enchanting fairy spell, 
A vision of my far off home 

And precious dreams of Isabel. 



64 POEMS. 

I've climbed Tarquina's sea girt sides 

And breathed the balmy southern air , 
Till I have thought no place besides 

Was half so grand or half so fair; 
But when the wand of twilight gray, 

Threw shadows on both rock and dell, 
Soft whisperings came from fer away 

And thoughts of home and Isabel. 

From Russian borders far remote 

To persian wealth at Ispahan, 
Or where tlie spicy zephyrs float 

From orange groves of Hindostan. 
From Norway's plains of ice and storm, 

To where the Mgearn billows swell 
I've sought in vain a place and form 

As fair as home and Isabel. 

I've been where nature paints the face 

Of woman in her richest hues, 
Where man may meet with every grace 

The heart can wish or fancy choose; 
But give to me my native shore, 

There let my wandering footsteps dwell ; 
For all I love and most adore 

Are mv sweet home and Isabel. 



POEMS. 65 

ATLANTIC VIEW. 

Atlantic View, my boyhood's home 
Down close beside the restless sea 
No matter where my footsteps roam 
My longing heart still turns to thee. 

Methinks I hear the tildee's cry, 
Adown the long and shimmering shore ; 

Where rolling up their breakers high 
The foaming, white capped billows roar. 

Ye crested waves, ye to me talked, 
Ere books and men were to me known, 

In tones of grandeur while I walked 
Along the shining beach alone. 

Oh happier far I might have been 
A sun-burnt fisher-boy 'till now ; 

With heart all innocent within — 
No trace of care upon ray brow. 

But since I left that good old home 
Down close beside the talking sea, 

What changes over it have come 
What trying sorrows over me. 

They tell me in the old marsh-field 
Beneath the bending cherry tree, 

Are sleeping now by earth concealed 
Three forms I never more shall see. 



66 POEMS. 

And though the house its form retains, 
And round the yard the tildee calls, 

No voice I used to love remains 
To echo through its silent halls, 

Farewell old home, this trihute small 
I passing pause to oiFer thee ! 

For what I am, I owe thee all. 
Or what I ever hope to he. 



LINES 

Dedicated to Kev. Dr. William E. Munsey, by one who heard him on New 
Year's Evening, January let, 1871, at the Central M. E. Church, South. 

The coal hums low in the grate^ 

The snow lies white on the street. 
The hour is lonely and late 

And few are the^passing feet, 
And few are the passing feet. 

And few are the thresholds crossed, 
For the air grows murky with sleet 

And the lamps are covered with frost. 

The hum of the throng has ceased. 

The mart is still where it rose ; 
And quietly, man and his beast, 

Have gone to their night's repose. 
Have gone to their night's repose. 

To rest in mansion or stall, 
And careless of friend or of foes, 

Thev yield to the soother of all. 



POEMS. 

And time seems hardly to go, 

So still the minutes do fly ; 
As wrapped in his mantle of snow, 

The Old Year has laid down to die, 
The Old Year has laid down to die, 

In the dark night dreary and cold, 
While clouds veil the dun wintry sky 

And the snow covers city and wold. 

But the New Year's morn shall break, 

Ere the Old Year glide away ; 
And joyous ones shall wake 

To hail the new born day, 
To hail the new-born day 

Of another new-born year — 
Which comes so 'ere it may. 

Gives promise of betteu cheer.- 

Thus the end of life comes on — 

Thus will close our little year, 
But the New Year's morn shall dawn. 

Ere the Old Year's end appear; 
Ere the Old Year's end appear 

Shall the New Year stand at the door 
To link this little sphere 

With the changeless Evermore. 



67 



